Little Things
by Mycroft-mione
Summary: A collection of random-pairing drabbles/one-shots from the Ship 'til You Drop Challenge on HPFC! Pairings of all sorts, all chapters unrelated.
1. Fred-Angelina

"So, Angelina," began Fred seriously. He clasped his hands together as if he were announcing the death of her grandmother.

"What's wrong?" Angelina replied. They were standing in the Quidditch pitch stands after a Gryffindor victory ─ fans were pouring out of the stadium to celebrate in the common room. Fred was still wearing his Beater uniform, and Angelina's Chaser robes were sticking to her skin in the unusually warm May sunshine. She was itching to go and change, but Fred's worrying tone kept her still.

"You know, Angelina, we've played on the same Quidditch team for five years now," he told her, sounding regretful.

"Yes..."

"And we've been in all the same classes, every single term for Merlin knows how long..."

"Um, yes?" she answered. "Where is this go─"

"And you've seen my stunningly handsome face daily since first year," he interrupted, finishing his thought.

"Um," said the Chaser, her brow sweating for some reason, "All of that is true, but what's the point of all this?"

"Not once, in the five ─ no, six years we've attended Hogwarts together," he began, dragging out the inevitable. He leaned back against the wall of the referee's box, acting casual.

Angelina hid a smile. She thought she knew where this was headed.

"What do you want to tell me, er─ Mr. Weasley?" she asked.

Fred waited a second for a dramatic pause.

"Angelina Johnson, will you go out with me? he finally asked, as if making a proclamation.

She rolled her eyes. "Yes." But she couldn't hold back a broad smile.

"Yes!" answered Fred to himself. Then he blushed and ran his fingers through his hair, an uncharacteristic event for him. Angelina stared. _He was blushing? She had no idea how much he liked her..._

Suddenly, another Weasley twin appeared behind Fred.

"Oh, hello... you," said Angelina. Then she had a realization. "Were you spying on me?!" she exclaimed.

George frowned at her.

"Why, Ms. Johnson, I have a question for _you_. Do you even know which one of us you're now dating?" he asked severely.

Angelina grimaced. "Um, Fred? Fred! Fred, of course," she quickly replied.

"Lucky guess," muttered the Weasley twin who Angelina now knew to be George.

"Oh, shut up you," she told him, then turned away from him and kissed her boyfriend Fred on the cheek.


	2. Vernon-Petunia

When Dudley was six months old, Vernon and Petunia bought a house on Privet Drive.

"Just the right amount of space for our little boy!" said Petunia. "It's such a unique house!"

"It's exactly the same as all the other houses on this street," replied Vernon smartly.

"I know... isn't it lovely?" she answered, not really listening.

* * *

When Dudley was one, Petunia gave their nephew Harry the closet under the stairs for his room.

"Get in there, you," she said to the unmoving baby, swaddled in a blanket.

"Are you sure he can live there?" asked Vernon. "He's just a baby, for God's sake."

"I'm not going to give that thing─" Petunia said, revolted, "Dudley's room, if that's what you're asking!"

The she softened. "Fine, we'll give him a crib in the spare room ─ for now."

* * *

When Dudley was two, they enrolled him in a toddlers' "Intellignce Aid" Course.

"Only the best for out little boy!" exclaimed his mother.

"But we're in debt, Pet," Vernon told her. "And we still have to pay off the mortgage."

"Dudders needs this," she informed him. "We'll manage like we always have."

* * *

When Dudley was three, Vernon and Petunia gave up a free vacation in order to care for Dudley at home.

"We can't trust anyone with our boy for three whole days!" said Petunia, shocked. "I'm sorry, Vernon, but that can't happen!"

"You're right, he needs mac 'n cheese for lunch every other day or he'll cry for days. No one else buys our organic box mix."

"Finally, you understand!"

* * *

When Dudley was five, Vernon declined a raise and better job at Grunnings.

Petunia told him, "Honey, we'd have to move. Dudley wouldn't be able to go to Smeltings when he gets older!"

"He can go to another school. Petunia, this job could pay for that vacation to Majorca we've been dreaming about!"

"My word is final, Vernon."

* * *

When Dudley was eight, Harry was forced to take over two-third of the housework.

"Are you absolutely positive about this, love?" asked Vernon. "Dudley can't do those things."

"Well of course not! Dudders isn't a dangerous, unstable boy like Harry! Harry is only fit for menial tasks. He's should be lucky we give him food and board at all, the good-for-nothing crook." Petunia scowled as she said this.

"Why did we agree to take him in in the first place?" asked Vernon, hopelessly.

"We had to. The neighbors would have thought we were inhuman if we didn't keep the boy."

"Oh, yes..."

* * *

When Dudley was eleven, Vernon and Petunia received a bullying report from the principal of his school, saying that Dudley had punched multiple students and sat on them until they couldn't breathe.

"Vernon," said Petunia, "What do we do? Do you think he really did this? It sounds bad."

"Pet, you've always been right about these things. I'm sure he's a wonderful boy. He must have been framed," replied Vernon. He trusted his wife's past instincts.

And so, convinced, Petunia wrote a strongly worded letter to Smeltings that very day.

* * *

When Dudley was eighteen, he wrote a letter, asked his parents for 10,000 dollars to buy a sports car.

Things were different. Their nephew had saved the─ _wizards_, and Dudley had been away from home for over a year.

Vernon and Petunia wrote back a week later.

_Dudders, we can't help you any more. We're sure you'll do fine. Love, Mum and Daddy._

"Petunia," Vernon told her, "it's time to care about ourselves. We've given him our entire lives ever since he was born. He's an adult now. He can handle it."

For the first time in many years, she gave him a genuine smile in return. "Time to do things how we want," she replied.

"I love you, Petunia."

"I love you, Vernon."


	3. Albus-Gellert

They met in the roundabout in Godric's Hollow, Albus jogging to avoid being late, and Gellert's coat flying out behind him as he walked swiftly towards his approaching friend. Snow softly drifted through the air, down to the frozen ground, but the two wizards didn't notice.

"Um, hi," said Albus. "It's ─ er, me."

"Me? You're Albus," cried Gellert, recognizing his companion' s face.

Albus laughed. "Yeah. When I'm around you, I can scarcely remember my own name."

"It's for the greater good. I don't want you to talk," said Gellert, closing the gap between them with a breathless kiss.


	4. Rita-Hermione

They thought Hermione was out to punish Rita Skeeter, the little green beetle with rings around its eyes in the shape of glasses. They thought the two despised each other. They thought the young witch was out to stop the journalist of sorts from writing deceptive articles for the Daily Prophet.

Well, she was. At first.

Hermione trapped the insect in a glass bottle that kept her alive, but immovable and impossible to transform. She would tease Rita, feed her only the bare minimum, and show everyone trustworthy about the capture.

But slowly, she grew an interest in Miss Skeeter, and occasionally, she let the beetle out of its bottle. Just for a minute or two.

It was phenomenal what could be accomplished in a minute or two.

At first, their interactions were of the intellectual kind. They sneered at the idiots of society, and appreciated each other's triumphs. They drank butterbeer, sometimes firewhiskey, getting to know each other. They did all sorts of things.

Then, they came to a kind of... agreement, shall we say.

The snogging started, and it became rather frequent. It became difficult for Hermione to hide her companion from the others, and Ron actually questioned the amount of in-room 'studying' his friend was doing. But the secret remained safe.

Hermione knew she was being played by the domineering witch, Miss Rita Skeeter. But somehow, she didn't seem to mind.

In fact, she rather enjoyed it.


	5. Blaise-Padma

When Padma recalled the night of the Yule Ball, she cursed herself for being so foolish.

Ron Weasley? Had she really chosen a capricious boy who _could not dance_, to attend a fabulous dance? It was really only because of his status as Harry Potter's best friend. Parvarti had been so persuasive, but in the end, it was obvious who had the better catch.

"Don't you look... dashing," she had said when Ron appeared in that idiotic excuse for dress robes.

Then he topped it off by refusing to dance with her. When that Beauxbatons boy offered, Padma was game, but her gaze lingered on another man for hours to come.

He was gorgeous, a great dancer, and must have had girls staring at him all night. He was dark, mysterious, nothing like the radish-haired fool she had agreed to go with.

But although Padma practically swooned whenever he passed by, Blaise Zabini paid her no attention. He probably didn't even know she existed.

If only Padma had said no to Parvarti, and asked out the boy she loved. If only.


	6. Oliver-Katie

I'm dragging every limb of mine outside for early morning practice. Actually, I'm also carrying the unwilling limbs of six other Gryffindors far behind me. Mostly Fred and George. Yesterday, I heard them threatening to put some kind of toffee in my pumpkin juice, in revenge for today and all the other days they have to get up early.

It's the crack of pre-dawn-thirty when slivers of light start to peek over the horizon and hit me in the face with their warmth. Uncertain sunlight filters through the trees, lighting up the pitch in streaks of sunrise reds and pinks. I shiver in my robes, feeling the rippling early morning breeze; why didn't I bring a cloak? But it's too late now, hopefully others will start to arrive albeit their complaints and we can get started, while I suffer in silence.

I pick up the pace now until I reach the edge of the stands, where the magically trimmed grass meets... more grass. It looks like Hagrid hasn't remembered to set up a base for the stands with his illegal umbrella yet. Gazing up towards the referee's box, where the Quidditch supplies are kept for us captains to use at our leisure, I spot the trunk. Fortunately, the Bludgers haven't sensed me yet and I might be able to sneak towards them without them shaking the trunk and straining their leather bonds.

My broom is kept in the first cubby, the one far to the left. While I wouldn't put it past the Slytherins to try and vandalize it, the brooms are protected by spells that only the owner can remove. _Alohomora Wood_, I whisper. I'm alone, but you can never be too safe. Grabbing my broom by the polished handle, I mount it and kick off, stopping my flight when I reach the referee box to unlock the playing balls.

"C'mon, now," I mutter to the trunk. "Easy does it─"

WHOOMPH! I lose my vision for a second as a Bludger smashes out of its restraints and flies past my shoulder, nearly chopping my head off. Leaping off the platform, I dive vertically towards the field thirty meters below and then come to a halt. But to my surprise, the Bludger doesn't come for me. I take away my hands, protectively guarding my head, and gaze up at the pitch. That's when I see her.

She's soaring in loop-de-loops on her broom, frolicking in the joy of early morning solitude without a single thing to keep her company.

"Katie!" I shout, making a megaphone with my hands. She turns, whipping the tail of her broom away from me and flies downwards so we can talk normally.

"Oliver," she answers. "Hi!" She waves with one free hand, keeping the other firmly on the handle of her Comet Two Sixty. Out of the corner of my eye I see the missing Bludger coming for her, and by the way she ducks down and yells, "Got it," I assume she's seen it too. She reaches out and misses it, surprisingly ─ but I shouldn't be surprised, after all, she's a Chaser, not a Beater. Usually, Fred and George have that aspect of the game taken care of.

"Yah, can you─" she yells, still a quarter of the pitch apart from me. I spin to the side, aiming for the place I know the Bludger will go ─ my Keeper training helps a lot in this kind of situation. A second later, it lands, struggling in my arms.

Katie is right beside me, having flown up close after dodging the crazed black ball hurling towards her. "So," she says, "Nice weather we've been having."

I roll my eyes. She laughs, a melodious but real-sounding giggle that resounds from her in the silence of the outdoors. "I didn't know you were out here."

We take off on our brooms, flying up into the sky where a hawk is circling in the distance. "Yeah," she answers, turning to me. "I just got up early and for some crazy reason wanted to get out here." She laughs again, and swoops forward. "I figured you'd be happy about it."

"No, no, I am. Just surprised, I guess, that I didn't see you."

She nods. "I don't really talk when I'm up here, so you wouldn't be able to unless you were searching the skies or something. I like just flying, you know? Not worrying about who's got what points and where the Snitch is and all that. It's a nice change of pace."

The rays have light that were only just emerging before have passed the tree line and illuminate Katie's face; her hair glimmers cheerfully. I fight the urge to leave towards her and brush back the stray pieces dangle away from her ponytail, gently framing her features. We're flying as a pair now, our movements matching each other perfectly. We're used to coordinated flight; it's something I like to stress in practices, but this is something more. Something that's both innocent and sweet.

I think she looks lovely, and I say so.

"Thanks," she says, smiling. I'm glad she not one of those girls who takes everything so seriously. I don't have to worry about what I say to her.

"Any idea where the rest are?"

"Not a clue," she pronounces. And we keep flying. I replace the Bludger I'm still carrying with the Quaffle, grabbing it from the trunk as we complete a loop of the pitch in perfect formation, tossing it towards Katie. Before I even see her catch it, it's flying back at my face like a antagonistic winged... Quaffle.

"Catch," she says.

"What're you trying to do, knock my head off?" The large dimples in the side of the crimson ball fit into my hands, aided by the sticking charm, but my reflexes are still tested by the unexpected toss.

"You're not losing your game, Wood, are you?" Katie kids, elbowing me in the side. I laugh, and push my broom forwards, racing her around the pitch. We're laughing, and joking, and knocking each other off our brooms while making spectacular recoveries, and time feels unchanging. Sometimes, when I'm doing something nice ─ not anything fancy, or expensive, or well-known ─ time seems to slip away until all I notice is the good things: what I'm doing, and who I'm doing it with. I notice the chirps of the birds in the trees, the crickets in the field, the cotton-colored clouds drifting here and there. Usually, all of this would have a lesser priority. It's funny how priorities can change so easily.

Katie and I complete one loop, another, another - until the sun has fully come up, warming our chilled bodies, and still no one has appeared for practice. Wind whistling in my ears, I gently come to a stop and float to the ground, turning to face her.

"Hey," I say.

"Hey," she answers. I have to take a second to catch my breath from the flight. Even after five years at Hogwarts, I'm still amazed by flight. I never got to fly until I came here; we didn't have the money for broomsticks back at home, so it was all new to me when I tried out to be a Keeper in third year. But obviously I've gotten better.

"What d'you want to do now?" I ask, suddenly unsure.

She's busily putting away her broomstick and fixing her hair. "Well, I have no idea where the others are, wasn't practice supposed to be ages ago?"

"Yeah," I answer. I scratch the back of my neck and tilt my head to the side. "I guess we should go in for breakfast?"

Yeah, okay," she says. "Thanks for that, though."

I smile and nod, shrugging. "It was fun."

The sounds of the outdoors more prominent now that we're silently exiting the stadium, a thought comes to me that makes me slap my forehead in alarm.

"Wait, I forgot!"

Katie stops, turning towards me. "Forgot what? You didn't bring anything else, right?"

"Um, it's in the cubbies. Can we go back? Just for a second?"

"Yeah, okay. We're probably already late to breakfast, there's no point in hurrying now!" she answers casually, not expecting much. She must think I missed my dragon-hide gloves, or something equally inconsequential. _Just wait 'til I show you_, I think to myself.

"Great." Within minutes, we're back in front of my cubby. I unlock it the same way as before, not caring if she hears my pass-spell. I trust Katie. Immeasurably.

"So I was just thinking, when I got this ─ well, I was in Hogsmeade, and Angelina said ─ to me, not Fred ─ although he was there too ─" I begin. I pause, trying to catch my friend. Why are girls so damn confusing? If I sound like a blubbering idiot, she's never going to take it.

"Yeah?" she answers, urging me to continue.

"Well, what I'm trying to say is, I don't expect anything from this, nothing at all. You don't even have to like it, just take it, all right? From me." I'm proud that those sentences have made some kind of sense.

"Wait, Oliver ─ you haven't given me anything yet," she laughs. Then her face changes, her eyes unreadable. "Wait, did I misunderstand?"

"No ─ no, I'm just an idiot," I stammer, reaching for the red velvet bag on the floor of my cubby. it has the Gryffindor symbol embroidered onto it, a gift from my aunt and uncle for my birthday last term. It held galleons then, but now its charge is something entirely different.

I get ahold of the bag, and put it in Katie's hands. She looks at me, then gazes down to un-cinch the top, cautiously putting her slender hand inside. She pulls out a card, and a handful of chocolate hearts, her eyes wide. I close mine tight. _Oh god, the others will never let me live this down._ I bite my lip, begging her not to run away screaming. _What was I thinking, giving her a gift? Today, of all days!_

The silence that was before soothing now threatens to strangle me. I have to say something. Katie is still reading the card's message, but if I wait any longer she'll soon be gone. I make a choice that I desperately hope is the right one.

"Happy Valentine's Day," I say softly. All the emotion I've been saving up in these last few minutes dive into my chest, making my throat clench in spite of itself. My heart stops beating for half a second, it feels like. I don't know what she'll say. I have absolutely no idea, and it scares me. I'm Oliver Wood. I don't get scared at little things like this. But I just did.

Then, Katie answers.

"Oliver... Oh, Oliver, thank you! That's so sweet!"

She drops the bag in the soft grass at her feet and pulls me into a hug. I can hardly breathe ─ she's strong ─ but it's more my heart jumping for joy that stifles my lungs. I can't believe she doesn't hate me for this, hate me for showing something I wasn't even sure I felt, but had to try. I'm glad I did.

"You're welcome." I smile.

The hug is chaste, it isn't lustful, but that's exactly what I want. I understand Katie. She's a mystery, that's for certain, but a mystery that's part of a gorgeous friendship as well. While that's all it is for now, I wouldn't mind if our relationship, whatever you want to call it, turned into something more. And by the fact that Katie is still hugging me, I think she feels the same way.

Happy Valentine's Day, Hogwarts. How wonderful it is to be young.

* * *

Written for the Ship Until You Drop Bi-Weekly Competition, Pairing: Oliver/Katie

Written for the Fanfiction Tournaments Competition, Theme: Valentine's Day


	7. Padma-Cho

It was midnight. Cho sat beside the fire in the Ravenclaw common room, her daintily-featured face in her hands, tears dripping from her cheeks and splattering on the hearth. She had just been dumped ─ again. Apparently it didn't matter if you were pretty, and had lots of friends, and had dated the two most popular guys at Hogwarts. Apparently that wasn't enough.

Was she wrong for asking for just one more free date meal in Diagon Alley, just one more diamond necklace after the show? Was she wrong for wanting more than just a boy to walk the corridors with and kiss maybe once or twice? Cho wanted that knight in shining armor who would provide for her every need. Her mother had once told her, men and boys weren't always the best all by themselves. But a little help, a little nudging here and there, could go a long way towards making them dateable.

Cho thought she was perfect for the job. She had the body, the brains ─ practically everything needed to snatch up whoever she wanted. She had worked on the cream of the crop: Diggory, than Potter, but each time something fell in the way. And this time it was Potter himself, not some outside force.

What more did they want?

So while her boyfr─ her ex, Cho corrected herself, wiping away her tears ─ dated Ginny Weasley, that insufferable lunatic, she, Cho Chang was crying in her own common room.

Pathetic.

She had to do something about it. She couldn't just keep crying there, somebody would find out and then she'd never get another guy._ Cho Chang_, she told herself, _you have to get up, fix your robes, and act respectable. Either you'll get another guy, and he'll be perfect, or no one here is acceptable, and you can at least say you tried._

Just as Cho was starting to rise and head for her dormitory, a figure appeared at the doorway. Cho's entire demeanor changed in an instant.

"Excuse me?" she said to the person standing there and looking at her. She crossed her arms and marched towards him or her. "What are you doing here, go away!"

"Cho," replied the person. The voice was feminine, and somewhat familiar, but Cho couldn't place it. It couldn't have been anyone in her year, but perhaps the year above? Or below?

"It's me, Padma." With that she muttered, "Lumos," and waved her wand in an arc. "See?"

"Oh, hi Padma," answered Cho quickly. She recognized the girl from the Ravenclaw table at meals, but for some reason hadn't ever spoken directly to her. "Look, I'm kind of busy, so if you wouldn't mind─"

"I-heard-you-crying," Padma interrupted. Cho's eyes widened in outrage. The girl had seen her. This was bad, very bad. Already Cho had developed a fluttering in her stomach that she could only assume meant fear.

"What? I wasn't crying. Why would you think that?" she stuttered, a combined effect of her anger and her sadness. "Look, I don't know why you even came here, and what you heard, but I was _not_ crying."

"Hey," replied Padma softly, putting a hand on Cho's shoulder. "I get it. But give me a chance. Besides, I come bearing gifts!"

"Gifts?" said Cho, her natural curiosity piqued. 'Gifts' was a favorite word of hers. She noticed for the first time that Padma was wearing satiny teal pyjamas and slippers under a cloak. Cute, she thought.

"Yep. Honeyduke's best chocolate! I always hide some in my trunk," said Padma confidentially, then paused. "I hope no one heard that!" she giggled.

Cho reached forward to take the candy, unwrapping the crinkly foil to reveal a corner of dark chocolate. Then a thought occurred to her.

"Nothing's the matter with this, right?"

"Nah," replied Padma. "You're just the lucky beneficiary of my kindness. Now eat, or I'll take it back.

"Chocolate is good for fixing crying," she added matter-of-factly.

I told you I was _not_─" Cho began, feeling stubborn. Why wouldn't the girl simply let her have her own way in this, like usual? Padma was beginning to seem like an interesting character. _But not _that_ interesting,_ she corrected herself. After all, the girl was younger than her.

"Is it good?" asked Padma, after a moment of silence when nothing could be heard but the crinkle of the foil wrapper, and the snap of chocolate breaking in two in Cho's surprisingly greedy mouth. "I ask only out of curiosity. You should finish it."

Cho hesitated after she comprehended what Padma was saying. She hadn't considered that Padma had wanted any. But the girl had said she didn't! There was no reason to stop eating. And it was a small bar, not large enough to share anyway.

Another flutter made itself known in Cho's stomach. Maybe that meant she shouldn't, in fact, have eaten the whole bar. Or maybe not. Cho suddenly wasn't sure what to think.

"So, why are we still talking?" asked Cho brashly. Immediately she regretted her words. "No, sorry, I didn't mean that."

"I am fascinated by you," said Padma simply. "You're a Ravenclaw, but you're not the nerdy, quiet, type like people say I am. You're popular, yet you're sitting here crying in the middle of the night. You've dated countless boys, but I know for a fact that you're feeling something new, because you haven't actually sent me away yet, like you normally would. You're curious."

Cho gaped. This girl had hardly spoken to her for five minutes, and already she was analyzing everything about her! She knew she should be furious, normally she would, but something about this girl made her want to listen. To listen closer, and hear what she had to say.

"So what I was wondering is whether you'd like to go with me to Hogsmeade tomorrow," said Padma. She didn't hide behind any fake emotion, or ask some other kid to tease her for her, or do any of the jealousy games that Cho knew only too well. She didn't do any of those things. She just stood there, in the middle of the night, and _asked Cho out_. Honestly, Cho was completely and utterly shocked.

But she listened to the feeling in her stomach, that was lingering on throughout the conversation, and piping up whenever something caught its fancy. And it telling her yes.

Cho, as a rule, didn't date girls. But something about Padma was different from everyone else. Yes, it made her confront someone who was practically a stranger in the common room in her pyjamas, but Cho wasn't exactly disappointed about that, to be honest. She could deal. And actually, she couldn't have been much of a stranger to the girl. After all, from what Padma had said to Cho, she must have been watching her or something. How else would Padma know who Cho really was?

The question that had been phrased as a statement was still there, waiting to be answered. Cho collected her thoughts, and made her choice. She had tried boys. How well had that turned out? And here was a pretty girl, who obviously liked Cho, that somehow made Cho start to like her back. The answer seemed to be clear. All Cho Chang had to do was say it.

"Okay," she said. "Let's." Cho saw Padma try unsuccessfully to conceal her happiness in response to this answer.

Was she wrong for saying yes to the girl?

There was no way to know.

But for the sake of her aching heart, Cho hoped not.

* * *

Written for the **Ship 'Til You Drop Bi-Weekly Competition**, Pairing: Padma/Cho

Written for the **Amateur Divination Game Challenge**, Q: If Liza were to go to the nearest convenience store, what would she buy? A: chocolate

Written for the **Let's Dig Holes! Competition**, Prompt: "Am I Wrong" by Nico &amp; Vinz (song)


	8. Albus-Scorpius

"Time's up!"

A chorus of groans. The clatter of pencils dropped in defeat ─ like an entire percussion section giving up all sense of musicality.

Scorpius stretched his arms behind his back, feeling his muscles tug against their will, grumbling in protest. His wrist had to be being gnawed off, it ached so much.

He tuned out Professor Sprout, flicking his eyes to the right, where another boy sat. Scorpius raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"Well?"

"Eh," answered Albus. "Couldn't get the second one." He glanced towards the teacher, his brows knit. "In my defense, we _never_ learned how to feed cabbages to mandrakes."

"You left it blank?" laughed the Slytherin, trying to cover his mouth so no revealing sound would emerge. "Albus Potter? I don't believe it." He faked being astonished.

"I was going to go back to it!"

"Nice," said Scorpius sarcastically.

Albus muttered something that sounded a lot like 'know-it-all.'

"Hey," Scorpius teased. "I bet you'll get the award for most-deserved 'T' on the exam!"

Professor Sprout banged her podium with her knuckles.

"Finished, Misters Potter and Malfoy?" She raised her scraggly, greying eyebrows.

Albus and Scorpius pretended not to know each other ─ nor what she was talking about. They waited an appropriate thirty seconds before whispering to each other again.

"See you later?"

"Course."

They bowed their head in sync and admired their erasers. No one could know.

When the class was officially over, and students were filing out of the hall, Professor Sprout shook her head fondly and said to herself, "Those two... just like their fathers. But they're never going to be able to make it last. They're far too obvious about it."

* * *

Written for:

**Ship 'Til You Drop Bi-Weekly Competition**, Pairing: Albus/Scorpius

**Amateur Divination Game Challenge**, Q: When I say Taylor Swift, what song comes to mind? A: "Blank Space"

**Let's Dig Holes Competition**, Prompt: accolade ─ an award or an expression of praise (word)


	9. Percy-Penelope

**A/N: This ficlet is an AU, because as most of you know, Percy doesn't marry Penelope, he marries Audrey. For my purposes, I'm changing that.**

* * *

Percy sat at the kitchen table wrapping presents, his wand measuring scraps of wrapping paper and handing them to him, like a magical assembly line. As Penelope came in, bearing diluted Firewhiskey and two glasses, he hid the small jewelry box he had just completed and made a show of wrapping the children's presents, hoping she hadn't seen her present. He took off his round glasses, rubbing his eyes wearily. The clock read exactly 10:00, and he had work the next morning, even though the kids were on break.

"What _is_ that?" she asked, sitting down next to him and laying a hand on his shoulder. Her eyebrows crinkled, showing the age lines forming on her forehead.

"Muggle music," replied Percy slowly, absorbed in his folding. "It's not Celestina Warbeck, but it's not bad."

"Perce, do you think they'll like it?" she asked, trying to be kind. "I mean, Molly's just leaving her animal phase, and Lucy's all about Quidditch lately. They're not like your dad used to be, Perce. Most of us aren't obsessed with Muggle things."

"No, but there's something about the... what are they called? Oh yeah, DCs," Percy answered. He wasn't sure of the name, but remained determined. He made the final fold, adhering the paper to itself with a simple sticking spell, and sat it down on the table. He gazed towards it fondly, imagining the excitement and curiosity on the kids' faces when they opened it Christmas morning. There was a short pause, and Percy took a breath.

"Will you just listen to them once? For me? I know you're not a music fanatic, but─"

"No," Penelope responded honestly, "but I guess I could try."

He smiled, grateful that his wife was being so acceptant of his tastes. "I love you."

"Merry Christmas," she said, kissing him softly.

* * *

Written for:

**Ship 'Til You Drop Bi-Weekly Competition**, Pairing: Percy/Penelope

**Galleon Competition**, Prompts: "What _is_ that?", "No, but I guess I could try.", and muggle music.

**Let's Dig Holes Challenge**, Character: Percy Weasley.

**Twister Challenge**, Task: Write about someone wrapping gifts.


End file.
